Don't You Remember?
by Lifeisforlivingoutloud
Summary: They had first met in college. It had also been love at first sight. But after Alfred is involved in a terrible accident, Arthur, for the first time, finds it hard to accept the way things have become. But it wasn't the first time that he responded with love. USUK Oneshot Complete. Tiny Franada.


They had first met in college.

It was rather an apt situation that when they had first met, they had fallen in love at first sight. The details had both faded after several years, a foggy memory of a fraternity party Alfred had been hosting and Arthur had most certainly not wanted to attend. He had been dragged along by a Prussian roommate, and left to the attentions of a cheerful Spaniard, as well as a Frenchman whose throat he'd wanted to shove a sock down. There had been deafening music, flashing colored lights, and a mass of moving not-quite-yet adults. As he fended off another attempt of groping, he paused mid-punch. A young man holding a red plastic cup across the room was speaking to his roommate and laughing about something. A confused expression crossed his face as his heart jumped to his throat and his eyes would not, _could not_, move from the stranger across the room. His jeans were slung almost sinfully low, and his T-shirt molded perfectly to his body. He couldn't quite see the other's eyes, until suddenly, he could.

He felt his cheeks take on a scarlet hue as he was caught looking.

* * *

His laughter had withered away on his lips as he caught sight of the man across the room. His green eyes hidden behind a pair of trendy Ray Bans, and shyly fidgeting hands stuffed into tight jeans pockets. Hair sticking out at angles that would have been odd had his hair been any longer.

It was strange, really. One minute he had been talking to his classmate, and less than a moment later, he was standing in front of the alluring newcomer.

He smiled with a bright grin as he introduced himself, one that only grew larger as he received a small smile in return.

* * *

After that, it had been a whirlwind of years melding with each other. Wonderful, crazy, love-filled years. Years with Alfred. When Alfred graduated, he took the two of them to a green meadow at sunset. All he brought with them was a blanket. They laid down, and waited for nightfall as they talked excitedly about their future. Houses made homes, internships turned careers. And the stars came out. Arthur's breath was taken away. The stars were diamonds poured onto the black velvet of the night sky. All Arthur could feel was Alfred's hand in his; all he could hear were his hushed tones of amazement; all he could smell was dewey grass; all he could see was the stars and his future. _Their_ future.

* * *

Arthur was rarely terrified. It had always been Alfred who was frightened at the silly Hollywood movies. Now, he was absolutely terrified. It had been shocking to learn from someone other than Alfred that his lover had been involved in a car crash; a pure adrenaline rush during the harrowing drive from the house to the hospital; and astounding relief to hear from the doctor that he would live. The doctor protested as Arthur burst into his room, trying to tell him something else, but he had ignored it. As he flung himself onto Alfred, he had cried tears of joy. But then the medic spoke.

Arthur slowly stood, his worst fears becoming realized. The physician's words washed over him like a bucket of ice water.

"He may not live for more than five years. I'm terribly sorry."

* * *

It had been about four years since the accident. Arthur dreaded each coming morning, afraid it would be Alfred's last. When the American's license had been revoked Arthur blamed it on nationalist police officers. However, when he had gotten lost on one of his morning walks, Arthur knew it was bad.

One day, Alfred's Canadian brother stopped by for a visit. Arthur had left him to attend to Alfred while he heated up a meal. Matthew walked in to grab a cup of coffee and returned to their room. He came back to the kitchen not a moment later with a strange look on his face.

"Arthur, Alfred glued my polar bear to the wall."

The stuffed bear was unstuck from the wall, and Matthew said his goodbyes. Alfred was asleep in the opposite room. After all was said and done, Arthur broke down. He hadn't known what to say. He loved Alfred so much that it hurt, and it was his responsibility to take care of him to the best of his abilities, after Alfred had done for him all those years. The moon had risen as Arthur wept. When Alfred entered the room the next morning, the sun rose and Arthur was dry-eyed once more.

* * *

Some days were worse than others.

Now and then, Alfred even forgot his name.

He begged him.

"You have to try Alfred," Arthur pled, "Don't you remember?"

The fifth year was the worst. Matthew moved closer to help out, as did his French boyfriend.

Nerves frayed, tempers rose, and insults flew whenever the two were in the same room. Arthur took to crying often, but always alone.

Slowly, Alfred passed on. It had been peaceful, but for the three left behind, it was felt like the end.

When Arthur was left alone with Alfred, during his final moments, Alfred had remembered.

Arthur whispered, afraid to break the tranquil atmosphere that the quiet hospital room afforded them.

"When will I ever see you again?"

Alfred squeezed his hand tightly. "How often do you close your eyes?"

Arthur hadn't cried since his passing, emptiness consuming him. Alfred had been right though. He remembered him every waking moment of his day, and every night as Alfred lived on in his dreams, as he had been years before the accident. Young, carefree and in love with Arthur, with the world, and with life.

* * *

They were left to pick up the shattered pieces of their broken lives. Matthew and Francis moved away again, to pursue new dreams. It was only when they left did Arthur finally enter the room Alfred had stayed in the last year.

It was a typical rainy English morning as he swept up the clutter and moved piles of stuff into cardboard boxes. He opened the closet door, and coughed as dust motes danced along the air. He waved them away from his face as he pulled down a shoebox. Something clattered to the rug with a soft thud. Arthur gently placed the shoebox on the dresser with the utmost care, and bent at the waist to pick up the object.

He looked at it curiously. It was a composition notebook he had been missing for ages. He hadn't missed it as much the last few years because his writing has taken a back seat. He walked in the living room, flipping the old pages full of his choppy scrawl. Arthur sat on his chair, green eyes flicking back and forth as they followed the lines of text. He halted, surprised as his eyes fell upon writing that was not his own on the last few pages. Arthur's eyes filled with tears as he shut the covers of the notebook and held it close. He clutched it to his chest as if it were the his lifeline. And at that moment it was, as he cried for the first time since Alfred's death. He felt the encompassing bittersweet sorrow and regret tug at his broken heart as he remembered. Such a little act, remembering.

Water droplets fell from his cheeks as he remembered every moment they had shared since they met in college.

Starry nights, energetic dances, and happy smiles. Warm embraces, free laughter and gentle kisses. Heated words, frustrated tears and forgiven apologies. And pure, unconditional love.

Sandwiched between the battered covers of the notebook, written on lined paper in childish print were the same words written over and over. From top to bottom, written in Alfred's hand were the most beautiful sentences Arthur had ever read.

_My true love's name is Arthur._

_My true love's name is Arthur._

_My true love's name is Arthur._

_My true love's name is Arthur._

_My true love's name is Arthur._

_Fin_

* * *

A/N: I don't know how this went. Please read, review and favorite if you liked!

Thanks so much!

~Lifeisforlivingoutloud


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